The Unforseen
by RomanticSoul693
Summary: When Henry time travels to Clare's house, he shocks her. He is the same age as her, eighteen. What will they do? Will they take advantage of their corresponding ages?
1. First Meeting Again

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My first Time Traveler's Wife story! Please please please review!

Clare (Clare is 18, Henry is 18)

He is coming today. It's Tuesday, July 20, 1989. I lie in bed and feel the thrill of today tingle through my body, making me shudder with glee. My Henry is coming to see me today. Two months ago, he had given me this date so I could be in the Meadow with clothes for him. Now that I'm at the mature age of eighteen, I consider not bringing any clothes at all. I guess that's not a very mature thing to do. Henry will probably be over thirty when I see him today. That is a twelve year difference! If anyone knew about my life-long infatuation with Henry DeTamble, they would either think I was a freak or wouldn't believe me.

I met Henry when I was six years old in the meadow near my home in South Haven, Michigan. He had suddenly appeared there, completely naked and slightly shaken. He had known my name and told me that we would be "friends" in the future. But, now I'm sure that we are never going to be just friends. I love him. I loved him the first time I saw him. I will always love him. My love for him has stood between me and every other male I've ever met. I will never see another man as someone I might grow up to marry. I know Henry will always be there. He's already imbedded in my future. There is nothing I can do to change it. It's like my life has already happened, and I am straggling behind, unable to catch up. If feels like it's not even my life anymore.

I had never thought like this until after I found out that Henry was a time traveler. I sometimes imagine what it would have been like if Henry never existed. If there was no Henry DeTamble, I could date boys and really consider loving someone else. I would be able to live in the present and not always be looking forward to the next day, week, or even month, waiting for my wandering bird to fly home to me.

It scares me when I think like that. I don't like thinking about what my life would be like without Henry. I know it's not right to think about the love of your life not being born, or about how much_ easier_ your life would be without him there to screw it up. Sometimes, I just lapse into thought, and not think about what I'm saying. One time, I even told Henry that I loved him but wished that I didn't, without even thinking about what I had been saying. He obviously hadn't been very happy about my saying that because he walked away from me and didn't come back. I had assumed that he had time traveled, and that I'd just have to wait until next month to see him again. And he did. And I waited, like always.

I'm always waiting. I just sit here and wait for him to reappear, so I can maybe get a kiss, make small talk, and get even more confused about my future because of the small hints of information he gives. Henry's been kissing me for a few years now, and I like it. I like being closer to him, but it also scares me the most when we're that close because it proves what I've been imagining to be true. I guess we really are going to end up married. It sounds so surreal, being married to Henry. I've been dreaming about it since I was ten or so, and I just can't believe that it will actually happen. One day, I will be Clare DeTamble, and there's nothing I can do about it, even if I wanted to. Nothing I do can change my future. I cannot go back in time like Henry can, and even then, he can't change anything either. He just sees events happen over and over again. It must be so terrible for him, having to see his life happen all over again. I sometimes wish I could time travel so that we could be together, but I guess we wouldn't travel to the same places. We'd be together even less than we are now. I wouldn't like that.

I hate how my life revolves around Henry so much. I am always waiting for him to come to me. I'm always looking forward to another day, instead of living the day it actually is. I sometimes wish I could just stay home on the day Henry comes, but I know that somehow, I would see him. I could look out a window, see him at the edge of the woods, and involuntarily run out to greet him. Or I just wouldn't be able to stay away. I'd tell myself that I would just sit outside in the garden all day, and later find myself sitting in the meadow, jumping slightly, waiting for Henry to appear. I can't run from him. He'll always be there to stumble into my life, and completely turn it around. And there's nothing I can do about it. My future is already set.

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I get out of bed around eight-thirty, trudging around my room, getting ready for my morning activities. I walk out of my room wearing a light blue polo shirt and a tan skirt with white flats. I hear my mother and father arguing quietly in the den. I pass it quickly and continue on to the kitchen I say "good morning" to Etta, and take an apple from the bowl on the counter. I make my way outside to the veranda, and stare out into the woods that surround our house. I bite the apple and sigh at the feel of the gentle breeze blowing through the trees. I can feel it blow my hair slightly back, as if it is being combed, like my mother used to. I hear birds chirping happily and the rustle of leaves, blowing on the trees. My favorite time of day -other than seeing Henry- is morning. Everything is so calm and relaxing outside, even if it's storming inside.

I hear a branch snap suddenly, and I whirl around to face east, towards an opening to the surrounding forest. I see an arm shoot out of a nearby bush, and I know it is Henry. My heart skips a beat, and I rush down the few steps leading to the ground. I continue on to the bush hesitantly, hoping that no one looks out the window and sees me talking to what it looks like, a bush. I whisper "Henry?" I can hear the devotion and longing in my voice, and silently scold myself for letting him hear it. His arm freezes in mid-air. He pulls it back into the densely packed leaves and pops his head out instead. I gasp.

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**I hope you liked it. Please review, and I will update as soon as possible. Thanks for reading!**


	2. First Kiss Again

**This is my second chapter, please take the time to review, I'd REALLY appreciate it. Enjoy!**

My heart starts beating at the sight of the youngest Henry DeTamble I've ever seen. His features are somewhat like his more aged face. His eyes are soft and chocolate brown. His cheekbones are youthfully rounded and help frame his circle-shaped face, that later stretched to his older, oval face. Henry's lips are thin and parted slightly. He was a very handsome guy, I think. His hair is solid dark brown and young; unlike the hair he sometimes has when he's in his forty's. I feel the adrenaline rush through my veins at the thought of what we could do while he was here…Yep, that's Clare for you, always the optimist.

I stare at Henry for a long while, waiting for him to speak. It takes him a good five minutes to stop himself from gaping at me. He then looks away from me and down at himself. His cheeks flush lightly and I swallow the giggle that was dying to come out.

"Excuse me, umm, miss. Would you by any chance have any clothes nearby? Even a blanket would be fine." He looks at me, looking embarrassed and immaturely worried. I see his eyes wander to the field behind me. I know the picnic I set up for us is there and a stack of my father's clothes at the edge of the blanket. His eyes light up at the sight and his eyes rise up to mine. Hope is shining in them and my eyes begin to build up with tears of joy. I love this boy. Even though, I guess "boy" isn't the right word for him. I suppose he is about seventeen or eighteen, and I sigh happily at the thought of Henry and I having corresponding ages together. He notices my continuous staring at him.

"Umm, are you ok?" He asks, a thin ring of worry in his voice. My heart flutters at his care.

"Oh, yes. Sorry. I do have some clothes, over there." I point behind me. "Behind me," my voice fades. He smiles at my dumbfounded expression, and I can't help but return the smile. "Oh God, I love you," I breathe. His smile fades and pure shock is plastered on his face. I then realize what I had just said.

"I didn't just say that, did I?" I ask, a dumbfounded smile appearing on my face. Henry nods slowly, his eyes wide. God, I think. How smart am I!, I scold myself sarcastically.

"I'm sorry, but from what you just said, it seems like you know me. I don't think I know you, though," he says. What he says pains me, even though I've heard it many times before. Every other time he's traveled at a young age, he's never remembered me. It hurt that he forgot me, even though I knew deep in my heart that he loved me.

I can see Henry notices my face fall, and remorse is in his eyes.

"No, you don't know me," I say. I turn towards the blanket with our picnic on it, and walk to retrieve his clothes. I hear him follow, a few feet behind. When I reach the blanket, I pick up the stack of clothes and turn around to hand them to him.

Henry's eyes fall on the clothes and reaches forward to take them. I look down from his face and see the reason he wanted to clothes in the first place staring right at me. I feel my face redden and I look away quickly. He smirks and I begin to get angry.

"Why are you smiling?" I question. He smiles wider.

"No reason in particular," he laughs.

"Henry, that is so not funny." I emphasize "so" and he bursts out laughing. I frown angrily at his immature behavior. He continues to laugh, and with every one, my frown fades and pretty soon, I'm laughing along with him. After our laughter dies down, Henry puts my father's clothes on. They hang off of him loosely, and he looks absolutely hilarious and I can't help but giggle.

Henry tilts his head and stares at me sternly. I giggle even more. He begins to walk towards me with playful anger in his eyes. I continue to laugh and take steps backwards at the same pace he is. Henry begins to get closer to me and eventually wraps his arms around my waist. I feel sparks under my skin at the feeling of his hands on me, even though he's over my shirt. The look on his face shows that he felt it too.

Our eyes meet and I feel at home in his arms. His dark brown eyes melt my own and I lean into him. Henry's lips are only centimeters from my own. I close the small distance when I finally let my lips touch his. He tightens his hold on me and I wrap my arms around his neck. We deepen the kiss and our breaths become ragged.

"Oh Henry," I whisper against his lips. He pulls away and stress into my yes. There is love in them and my eyes fill with tears again. Henry brushes the back of his hand against my cheek softly. "I love you," I hear myself say once again.

"I don't know who you are, but I can't help but love you as well." I sigh with unbelievable happiness and press my lips to his again.


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